Samrat Kar's Blog, page 4
October 17, 2013
Mingling in thine essence
"Desire was there to mingle with Thou",
Soliloquy'd Simoni, "Or would I say,
The desire was born that way.
Never did I know
Why was it born?
Probably it was my destiny"
Another stance of a miracle again hit him;
A grace right from the world of higher spirits.
And he was in trance for the whole winter.
Now, when the winter is gone,
In a position was he,
To pen down what I went through.
It was overwhelming. It was breathtaking.
Yes, it was unbelievable. Absolutely unthinkable.
Such a joy was it.
His heart was light, and it was flowing in trance of exuberance.
Yes, it was an ecstasy he had never known.
It was so tenderly strong.
He gasped, "I have been feeling under surface in my soul so long: an incarnation.
It had to become manifest. So much desire must create a reality.
My love was sprouting out of my heart,
Determined to create a figment, an artifact of that divine state of being."
Angela when blossomed from the white marble,
On that full moon night,
Reflecting all its silvery glory,
On the still stream by the fountain.
And when she wrote on the canvas open,
The verses of the Rubaiyat.
On the sepia background..
Simoni fell enchanted,
Watching the beautified letters, with confident strokes of shiny mysterious black,
Flowing with perfection,
Like a seal diving into the still stream.
Was he standing there, in awe.
Skiing in ease, with youthful wild throb in his heart,
Stupefied with the intoxication of her magic.
He was just watching in awe,
Those impeccable strokes,
Perfect the first time, and every time,
Confident, open, bold, artistic, and glorious.
They were as if pulling his heart out,
Taking it in its tempo,
To a world unknown.
And he stayed, surrendered in his totality,
Allowing the flow to take him to the world new,
To taste that exotic presence of beauty.
Then, Simoni thought, "let me mingle with your essence,
With your flow, with your writing"
And then I too wrote on another row,
Just below the strokes of Angella,
The same words, in his way, in his style, in his might.
Then, Simoni saw his writing, and hers.
He could see they were like made for each other,
One completing the other.
They were so unique, Also they were so alike,
They were so class apart, But they were also so close together.
He could feel the sense of mingling of the souls,
The mutual camaraderie,
Through his writing and hers.
Amazing was the feeling of belonging,
Incredible was the feeling of being a part of her,
Sailing together, in unison, in harmony,
As the dance of salsa,
Being the symphony itself.
"Desire was there to mingle with Thou",
Soliloquy'd Simoni, "Or would I say,
The desire was born that way.
Never did I know
Why was it born?
Probably it was my destiny"
But the Simoni stopped, and contemplated,
"Beginning am I to cherish,
What it means to mingle with your essence,
Your essential beauty,
Your expression of art,
In your voice, your gestures, your writings,
And yes, the radiance of your presence."
He continued,
"Your essence understands me, though you don't.
Your art, and your stance, your magic, your elegance, your enchantment,
All knows me, and loves me, though you don't.
I feel good to be with the essential,
To be in love, in communion, with that essence,
The essence of Love,
The essence of Beauty,
The essence of Life and Light.
I care not,
Thou love me not.Or probably you do.Anyway is so inconsequential"
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Soliloquy'd Simoni, "Or would I say,
The desire was born that way.
Never did I know
Why was it born?
Probably it was my destiny"
Another stance of a miracle again hit him;
A grace right from the world of higher spirits.
And he was in trance for the whole winter.
Now, when the winter is gone,
In a position was he,
To pen down what I went through.
It was overwhelming. It was breathtaking.
Yes, it was unbelievable. Absolutely unthinkable.
Such a joy was it.
His heart was light, and it was flowing in trance of exuberance.
Yes, it was an ecstasy he had never known.
It was so tenderly strong.
He gasped, "I have been feeling under surface in my soul so long: an incarnation.
It had to become manifest. So much desire must create a reality.
My love was sprouting out of my heart,
Determined to create a figment, an artifact of that divine state of being."
Angela when blossomed from the white marble,
On that full moon night,
Reflecting all its silvery glory,
On the still stream by the fountain.
And when she wrote on the canvas open,
The verses of the Rubaiyat.
On the sepia background..
Simoni fell enchanted,
Watching the beautified letters, with confident strokes of shiny mysterious black,
Flowing with perfection,
Like a seal diving into the still stream.
Was he standing there, in awe.
Skiing in ease, with youthful wild throb in his heart,
Stupefied with the intoxication of her magic.
He was just watching in awe,
Those impeccable strokes,
Perfect the first time, and every time,
Confident, open, bold, artistic, and glorious.
They were as if pulling his heart out,
Taking it in its tempo,
To a world unknown.
And he stayed, surrendered in his totality,
Allowing the flow to take him to the world new,
To taste that exotic presence of beauty.
Then, Simoni thought, "let me mingle with your essence,
With your flow, with your writing"
And then I too wrote on another row,
Just below the strokes of Angella,
The same words, in his way, in his style, in his might.
Then, Simoni saw his writing, and hers.
He could see they were like made for each other,
One completing the other.
They were so unique, Also they were so alike,
They were so class apart, But they were also so close together.
He could feel the sense of mingling of the souls,
The mutual camaraderie,
Through his writing and hers.
Amazing was the feeling of belonging,
Incredible was the feeling of being a part of her,
Sailing together, in unison, in harmony,
As the dance of salsa,
Being the symphony itself.
"Desire was there to mingle with Thou",
Soliloquy'd Simoni, "Or would I say,
The desire was born that way.
Never did I know
Why was it born?
Probably it was my destiny"
But the Simoni stopped, and contemplated,
"Beginning am I to cherish,
What it means to mingle with your essence,
Your essential beauty,
Your expression of art,
In your voice, your gestures, your writings,
And yes, the radiance of your presence."
He continued,
"Your essence understands me, though you don't.
Your art, and your stance, your magic, your elegance, your enchantment,
All knows me, and loves me, though you don't.
I feel good to be with the essential,
To be in love, in communion, with that essence,
The essence of Love,
The essence of Beauty,
The essence of Life and Light.
I care not,
Thou love me not.Or probably you do.Anyway is so inconsequential"
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on October 17, 2013 10:06
October 13, 2013
The Beautiful Game of Life
From dream to the dream,
Here I tread the way
Who knows where I was before birth,
And who knows where will I go after death.
When I know the journey is not in my control,
Why I feign that I plan my life?
Probably just to make myself happy,
With the false hope of getting it the way I want.
Probably I will be never able
To even conceive the truth,
Discerning through the maze
Of diverse color and form.
Fearless, determined and with hope utmost,
Here I walk my own path.
When my heart curls inside in sadness of solitude,
Through the darkness of loneliness,
Sparkles the sky full of stars and the ever glowing moon,
Walking hand in hand,
With me, in my journey -
As companions in love - silent and pristine.
Where I am heading to,
What I am up to.
I know not.
Only know I one thing for certain.
I am in love with this beautiful life.
And here I explore the nature, the time and cosmos,
In sheer wonderment,
Of that invisible unknown mystery -
The mystery of that invisible Damsel Delight!
It is not just for the sheer diversity and novelty
The dream of existence fascinates me.
But also the web of Life -
The interdependencies, complexities and contradictions,
All making the mystery even more overwhelming,
Takes my breath off.
Certainly a simple play bores me.
So, here is the game that enthralls all imaginations anew,
With the transient landscape of all that is alive.
I try to make a sane sense of what is around,
Through the knitting together,
Tapestry of Life,
With the thread of Love.
The Beautiful Game of Life.
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Here I tread the way
Who knows where I was before birth,
And who knows where will I go after death.
When I know the journey is not in my control,
Why I feign that I plan my life?
Probably just to make myself happy,
With the false hope of getting it the way I want.
Probably I will be never able
To even conceive the truth,
Discerning through the maze
Of diverse color and form.
Fearless, determined and with hope utmost,
Here I walk my own path.
When my heart curls inside in sadness of solitude,
Through the darkness of loneliness,
Sparkles the sky full of stars and the ever glowing moon,
Walking hand in hand,
With me, in my journey -
As companions in love - silent and pristine.
Where I am heading to,
What I am up to.
I know not.
Only know I one thing for certain.
I am in love with this beautiful life.
And here I explore the nature, the time and cosmos,
In sheer wonderment,
Of that invisible unknown mystery -
The mystery of that invisible Damsel Delight!
It is not just for the sheer diversity and novelty
The dream of existence fascinates me.
But also the web of Life -
The interdependencies, complexities and contradictions,
All making the mystery even more overwhelming,
Takes my breath off.
Certainly a simple play bores me.
So, here is the game that enthralls all imaginations anew,
With the transient landscape of all that is alive.
I try to make a sane sense of what is around,
Through the knitting together,
Tapestry of Life,
With the thread of Love.
The Beautiful Game of Life.
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on October 13, 2013 13:46
August 17, 2013
The Unknown but Knowable
The Unknown, but the Knowable
Plays hide and seek,
Every moment in this ocean of life.
The cycles of hide and seek,
Drench the whole being of existence,
In the rhythm of
Love and hate,
Ecstasy and pain,
Excitement and boredom,
Mundane and extraordinary,
Hope and despair.
All swing the cradle of life,
Civilizations after civilizations,
All embroiled in
Multiplicity of cults, beliefs and ideologies,
Extending across the vastness of the Earth.
Through all these ever changing,
Commotion of transience,
Runs through,
The constancy of the only Absolute.
The Absolute of the Unknown, but the Knowable.
The expanse of clear morning shine
Gets sometimes hidden
By the curse of black clouds,
Of Ignorance, trivialities, and all that is dark and small.
Only to eventually show up
The grandeur of the bright shine of
Enlivening Light of inspiration, passion, hope and aspiration.
But again the cycle continues.
Heartening to know the permanent sanctuary
Of that Unknown, but the Knowable,
Experienced through,
Spontaneous acts of creativity,
Visible through
The eyes of the heart,
The fluidity and dynamic dialectics,
Amazes every bit of my existence!
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Plays hide and seek,
Every moment in this ocean of life.
The cycles of hide and seek,
Drench the whole being of existence,
In the rhythm of
Love and hate,
Ecstasy and pain,
Excitement and boredom,
Mundane and extraordinary,
Hope and despair.
All swing the cradle of life,
Civilizations after civilizations,
All embroiled in
Multiplicity of cults, beliefs and ideologies,
Extending across the vastness of the Earth.
Through all these ever changing,
Commotion of transience,
Runs through,
The constancy of the only Absolute.
The Absolute of the Unknown, but the Knowable.
The expanse of clear morning shine
Gets sometimes hidden
By the curse of black clouds,
Of Ignorance, trivialities, and all that is dark and small.
Only to eventually show up
The grandeur of the bright shine of
Enlivening Light of inspiration, passion, hope and aspiration.
But again the cycle continues.
Heartening to know the permanent sanctuary
Of that Unknown, but the Knowable,
Experienced through,
Spontaneous acts of creativity,
Visible through
The eyes of the heart,
The fluidity and dynamic dialectics,
Amazes every bit of my existence!
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on August 17, 2013 10:19
August 3, 2013
Happy Friendship Day!! 2013
A day aptly dedicated to remember, and extend the gratitude to friends and the spirit of friendship.
Happy Friendship day to you all - my friends!
Friends - what does the word imply? Is it a group of individuals forming an inner circle for an my social group, who share my interests, and laugh with me at the same joke? Or is it a group of those, who know me and understand my idiosyncrasies. Or are they the people who as they say, "a friend in need is a friend indeed"?
I think the word friend is much more beyond that exclusive set of people who make me feel accepted and comfortable. Equally indebted am I to those, who do not like me. Those, who make me feel small, wretched and embarrassed. For only due to the second group, do I know who I am, and who I am not. Only through the second group, do I know from gut, about my barriers and shortfalls. At the same time it paints in-front of me the immense diversity of the nature! More than the sense of loss, it is a sense of gathering new knowledge and new points of view! They show one the depth of the truth of life. How can one call them foes, and not friends? Do, they not equally contribute to one's growth as a fully developed man, to be able to relate to one's existence more closure to what it is, rather than what false conception one has, about oneself and life per se?
The point is that the journey is three fold. First is about getting stuck in that smallness of considering the other, not friends. That space is that mean narrowness of considering the other different from the self. That space is rightly termed by Marx and other masters of humanity, as the state of "alienation". This primarily is a state of melancholy, where one perceives himself as a lonely entity, on whom the world ("others") are throwing stones. The most challenging part of this stage is not to give way to death, slipping the downhill of various symptoms of neurotic separateness, manifested as hatred, sadness, emptiness, depression, jealousy etc.
The next stage is about identifying the barriers of the self, which makes one alienated, and appear separate and disconnected from the other. It is about curling inside and knowing oneself more fully. This stage is difficult as it is about going beyond what is felt or seen on surface, through the tapestry of personal biases. It is about being able to move out one's own self out of the center of the world, and putting someone else in that place. It is about relating to the other from that vantage point, as they are the center of the world. Compassion represents succinctly this state of being. It is about relating to the other from the vantage point of love, with the attitude of respect towards diversity, with the knowing that what appears so alien, is something that points oneself to something so profound that one would have never even made a sense of that profundity relating to the world, by a lone self.
Obviously when these barriers are identified the task is to remove them, leading one to connect to his fellow humans, and relating to one and all as true friends. This stage of transcendence of one's own barriers, ushers one to that unbounded openness from which life springs out in love. This stage is un-folding outside in the one's pristine nakedness.
These three states are not separate from one another in the real life's stage. They happen together, and and happen always. It depends on one's capacity and skill how much one can beautifully play this game of dynamism, progressing from one stage to the next, and then suddenly regressing with a fall, and again getting up, fully determined to climb the next level, and go on - in the dance - enjoying every moment of the play. It is like a child learning to walk. He crawls, stands, falls, and again decides to stand and continue, only to fall again. The dance continues. But the beauty is that after every fall, he decides to start all over again! What a beauty!
And again, it appears to me, whether friendship is limited to fellow mankind? Does it not obviously and naturally extend to non-humans; to nature as a whole; to the entire cosmos? Thinking more about it, it increasingly appears that friendship is universal. In fact it is very hard to clearly know for certain, where our individuality ends, and the surrounding starts. The point is that it is very difficult to demarcate the boundary where the self ends, and his surrounding starts; where "I" end and "my friends" start. May be both directs to the same? May be one is visible only due to the other? May be both - self and the other, appear together; always?
Like, for example we have more than 10,000 different species of friendly microbes on and inside our body. They operate in the level of our DNA, capable of switching them on and off, selectively, impacting our mood, perception and our perception. Similarly in our external world, we are increasingly dependent on both people who love us, and those who hate us - For only through the pain of rejection, do we realize for sure the glory of acceptance. Without one, how could we have even comprehended the other. Sometimes it occurs to me, this world both within and outside, comprises of just friends, whose member I myself am. Certainly major part of these friends are non-humans, though unfortunately we are fixated at humans, at most of the times!
Books, ideas, inspirations, visions, purpose, art, vocation, etc are another genre of our friends, who add new meaning to who we are. Certainly such friends are the most special. For they know only one thing - To Give!
The elements - air, water, fire, earth - for sure are friends magnanimous! No complaints, no need, no ego, no quarrels! They only know to give, to inspire, to seed a new idea! The transience and energy of fire, the tranquility and humility of water, the omnipresent space of the everlasting company of the air, the unconditional openness from the unbounded openness of the Earth - reminds of the archetype of friendship!
Friends are also, the times both good and bad! Good times nourishes us, and the bad strengthen! Can there be any friend better than time - epiphanies and trials?
Those memories of love and warmth. Those memories of pain and indifference. Are they not friends of equal importance! For memories are the friends who are permanent with us - Till eternity - leaving the footprints on the vast expanse of the fleeting time.
More I think, more it comes so real to me that may be the self and the other both is encompassed in the spirit of friendship. May be even calling some other entity is a friend, indirectly points that I am separate from the other. May be it is just another illusion. In reality probably I would be absolutely unable to experience who I am and who I am not, without the other. So, does it even makes sense to consider myself as a separate entity from the other? For example how can I experience standing, if there is no earth to stand on. In that case, does the process of standing not comprising of seeing myself only in relation to me and the earth? Can one makes sense of itself, without the other? This dance of dialectics makes life really interesting!
Coming back to friendship day, I take this opportunity to pay my highest homage to the spirit of this complex connectedness, some aligning with the other, and some opposing the other, in an eternal process of transient dynamism of an un-ending transactions, creating an illusion of a varied sparkle of this physical life. From childhood this amazing cosmic play used to be fascinating to me, each time I used to review the periodic table. Just by change of one electron, and the pattern of their arrangement, we have such apparently varied perception of elements. How different is hydrogen from gold! But the difference between them is just a pattern of arrangement of the same electronic wave, and their dance of interdependence.
To that cosmic dance of interdependence, here I offer my worship, on this Friendship Day!
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Happy Friendship day to you all - my friends!
Friends - what does the word imply? Is it a group of individuals forming an inner circle for an my social group, who share my interests, and laugh with me at the same joke? Or is it a group of those, who know me and understand my idiosyncrasies. Or are they the people who as they say, "a friend in need is a friend indeed"?
I think the word friend is much more beyond that exclusive set of people who make me feel accepted and comfortable. Equally indebted am I to those, who do not like me. Those, who make me feel small, wretched and embarrassed. For only due to the second group, do I know who I am, and who I am not. Only through the second group, do I know from gut, about my barriers and shortfalls. At the same time it paints in-front of me the immense diversity of the nature! More than the sense of loss, it is a sense of gathering new knowledge and new points of view! They show one the depth of the truth of life. How can one call them foes, and not friends? Do, they not equally contribute to one's growth as a fully developed man, to be able to relate to one's existence more closure to what it is, rather than what false conception one has, about oneself and life per se?
The point is that the journey is three fold. First is about getting stuck in that smallness of considering the other, not friends. That space is that mean narrowness of considering the other different from the self. That space is rightly termed by Marx and other masters of humanity, as the state of "alienation". This primarily is a state of melancholy, where one perceives himself as a lonely entity, on whom the world ("others") are throwing stones. The most challenging part of this stage is not to give way to death, slipping the downhill of various symptoms of neurotic separateness, manifested as hatred, sadness, emptiness, depression, jealousy etc.
The next stage is about identifying the barriers of the self, which makes one alienated, and appear separate and disconnected from the other. It is about curling inside and knowing oneself more fully. This stage is difficult as it is about going beyond what is felt or seen on surface, through the tapestry of personal biases. It is about being able to move out one's own self out of the center of the world, and putting someone else in that place. It is about relating to the other from that vantage point, as they are the center of the world. Compassion represents succinctly this state of being. It is about relating to the other from the vantage point of love, with the attitude of respect towards diversity, with the knowing that what appears so alien, is something that points oneself to something so profound that one would have never even made a sense of that profundity relating to the world, by a lone self.
Obviously when these barriers are identified the task is to remove them, leading one to connect to his fellow humans, and relating to one and all as true friends. This stage of transcendence of one's own barriers, ushers one to that unbounded openness from which life springs out in love. This stage is un-folding outside in the one's pristine nakedness.
These three states are not separate from one another in the real life's stage. They happen together, and and happen always. It depends on one's capacity and skill how much one can beautifully play this game of dynamism, progressing from one stage to the next, and then suddenly regressing with a fall, and again getting up, fully determined to climb the next level, and go on - in the dance - enjoying every moment of the play. It is like a child learning to walk. He crawls, stands, falls, and again decides to stand and continue, only to fall again. The dance continues. But the beauty is that after every fall, he decides to start all over again! What a beauty!
And again, it appears to me, whether friendship is limited to fellow mankind? Does it not obviously and naturally extend to non-humans; to nature as a whole; to the entire cosmos? Thinking more about it, it increasingly appears that friendship is universal. In fact it is very hard to clearly know for certain, where our individuality ends, and the surrounding starts. The point is that it is very difficult to demarcate the boundary where the self ends, and his surrounding starts; where "I" end and "my friends" start. May be both directs to the same? May be one is visible only due to the other? May be both - self and the other, appear together; always?
Like, for example we have more than 10,000 different species of friendly microbes on and inside our body. They operate in the level of our DNA, capable of switching them on and off, selectively, impacting our mood, perception and our perception. Similarly in our external world, we are increasingly dependent on both people who love us, and those who hate us - For only through the pain of rejection, do we realize for sure the glory of acceptance. Without one, how could we have even comprehended the other. Sometimes it occurs to me, this world both within and outside, comprises of just friends, whose member I myself am. Certainly major part of these friends are non-humans, though unfortunately we are fixated at humans, at most of the times!
Books, ideas, inspirations, visions, purpose, art, vocation, etc are another genre of our friends, who add new meaning to who we are. Certainly such friends are the most special. For they know only one thing - To Give!
The elements - air, water, fire, earth - for sure are friends magnanimous! No complaints, no need, no ego, no quarrels! They only know to give, to inspire, to seed a new idea! The transience and energy of fire, the tranquility and humility of water, the omnipresent space of the everlasting company of the air, the unconditional openness from the unbounded openness of the Earth - reminds of the archetype of friendship!
Friends are also, the times both good and bad! Good times nourishes us, and the bad strengthen! Can there be any friend better than time - epiphanies and trials?
Those memories of love and warmth. Those memories of pain and indifference. Are they not friends of equal importance! For memories are the friends who are permanent with us - Till eternity - leaving the footprints on the vast expanse of the fleeting time.
More I think, more it comes so real to me that may be the self and the other both is encompassed in the spirit of friendship. May be even calling some other entity is a friend, indirectly points that I am separate from the other. May be it is just another illusion. In reality probably I would be absolutely unable to experience who I am and who I am not, without the other. So, does it even makes sense to consider myself as a separate entity from the other? For example how can I experience standing, if there is no earth to stand on. In that case, does the process of standing not comprising of seeing myself only in relation to me and the earth? Can one makes sense of itself, without the other? This dance of dialectics makes life really interesting!
Coming back to friendship day, I take this opportunity to pay my highest homage to the spirit of this complex connectedness, some aligning with the other, and some opposing the other, in an eternal process of transient dynamism of an un-ending transactions, creating an illusion of a varied sparkle of this physical life. From childhood this amazing cosmic play used to be fascinating to me, each time I used to review the periodic table. Just by change of one electron, and the pattern of their arrangement, we have such apparently varied perception of elements. How different is hydrogen from gold! But the difference between them is just a pattern of arrangement of the same electronic wave, and their dance of interdependence.
To that cosmic dance of interdependence, here I offer my worship, on this Friendship Day!
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on August 03, 2013 23:53
July 17, 2013
My 35th Birthday!!
Today is my 35th Birthday. Having born on 17th July, my birth number is (1+7) 8. 35th birthday (3+5) matches the number 8. So it had to be special :). It was absolutely fantastic! Both at office and at home! I was absolutely ravished in pleasant surprise to see my cubicle decorated so thoughtfully by my team!! Had a grand lunch buffet with my team..and they so impeccably arranged for a cake cutting at the restaurant! There was a beautiful birthday song played by the restaurant folks in the background. All wished me!! Parents are with me after ages on my birthday!! The day was special. Very special. It was made special by my friends and family! Thank you all!!
Every birthday, I have a habit of looking back who I was, and who I am, as a man. I try to articulate the one most important take away life has taught me the last year. Most of this is based on readings I do, and my experiences when I try to apply those ideas into practice, trying to search my own truth. For me just reading great thoughts does not make sense, till I apply them, and feel their profundity. I have met many thinkers in my books. Have liked them often, have tried out their ideas, and then having gone deep into their thoughts. Many a times have taken various diversions, when the ideas did not resonate with who I am. In this journey I have abandoned many great men and women, and taken up new thinkers and ideas, which seemed to help me know more closely who I am, and who I am not.
This year also was spent in quite a lot reading, contemplating and practicing. Primarily, everything started with Erich Fromm. A deluge of enlightening ideas from this visionary social scientist. Fromm taught me what it means to love, and what it takes to be a man - he says - fully developed man. He introduced me to the thoughts of Karl Marx. Marx taught me what it means to be a fully developed man by being able to relate to fellow human, through productive and spontaneous activity. He has been teaching me the intricacies of economics, and how society is formed and shaped by the mean of production. Marx is an institution by himself. I have just started scratching the surface. Miles to go before I sleep! The ideas were also made more concrete by the writings of Kafka. I read his book - The Trial. The most symbolic book I have ever read! Thanks to Fromm. Fromm also deepened my ideas about Buddhism. I had a stint re-visiting the Christian mysticism, Sufi mysticism, etc, too. Along with that Karen Armstrong, and Fritjof Capra led me to the world of religion and physics and being again present to their interconnection. Armstrong is one of my person inspiration!
The most refreshing thing that happened to me between 17th July 2012 and 17th July 2013 was Fromm and Marx. I feel, they really helped me to know myself and the world better. I am still continuing Marx and Fromm. But recently since couple of months, I am deep into David Deida. With what a courage, audacity and truth this person speaks! Interesting perspective! Now continuing with his third book. A good place I am standing, trying to synthesize Marx, Freud, Fromm, Tolstoy and Deida! All experimenting on Love, God and Truth. Things going good!
Yes, I started growing beard and hair this year. (Family not happy) Do not know why, I am doing this. It is a fallout of a concoction many thoughts, feelings and whims. I myself am not very sure about it. I can always rationalize it saying something or the other. But, I choose not to do so, and just be in the place, without searching for any explanation and logic. I just want to be free.
Yes, this is the third year of my being a vegetarian. I am finding more and more that vegetarianism is something most natural to me. There is no feeling of righteousness in this. Neither there is any baggage of any ideology. It is just natural for me, and I would like to keep it that way. Again it is about freedom, and being authentic.
One thing makes me feel uncomfortable every birthday - being busy with all myself and me, from morning to night. Hundreds of wishes, phone calls, messages, etc. It certainly feels good that so many people love me! I feel pampered. But it tires me after sometime. It feels like being suffocated by only me, myself and I. The profound desire to break out from the dark bondage of myself, and reach out to others strongly raises its head. It is then, I try to contemplate on those beautiful words, expressions and efforts my friends and family has taken to wish me that day! It feels so good to be able to reach out to their heart, in that space of meditation, where they thought about me, and cared to either call, or send a note of wish. It feels like a communion with God - through fellow humans. It is by itself a profound state to be in! It feels so much more powerful being able to know the other, and relate to the other - their pain, inhibitions, dreams, fears and inspirations!
The primary state of being that I am in communion with through this birthday, is the spirit of being in the state of unbound openness of Love. It is about ravishing the world and myself, in profound openness. From that canvas of openness, I am trying to create every moment, relationship, and institutions, being the possibility of boundless Love. Being in that state, it is all about how I give the gift of the truth - who I am, to one and all. It is about penetrating the world with my gift of openness and Love, in the spirit of service. It is about feeling through my desires and expressing them with my gift to the world - through my words, poems, actions, and work.
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Every birthday, I have a habit of looking back who I was, and who I am, as a man. I try to articulate the one most important take away life has taught me the last year. Most of this is based on readings I do, and my experiences when I try to apply those ideas into practice, trying to search my own truth. For me just reading great thoughts does not make sense, till I apply them, and feel their profundity. I have met many thinkers in my books. Have liked them often, have tried out their ideas, and then having gone deep into their thoughts. Many a times have taken various diversions, when the ideas did not resonate with who I am. In this journey I have abandoned many great men and women, and taken up new thinkers and ideas, which seemed to help me know more closely who I am, and who I am not.
This year also was spent in quite a lot reading, contemplating and practicing. Primarily, everything started with Erich Fromm. A deluge of enlightening ideas from this visionary social scientist. Fromm taught me what it means to love, and what it takes to be a man - he says - fully developed man. He introduced me to the thoughts of Karl Marx. Marx taught me what it means to be a fully developed man by being able to relate to fellow human, through productive and spontaneous activity. He has been teaching me the intricacies of economics, and how society is formed and shaped by the mean of production. Marx is an institution by himself. I have just started scratching the surface. Miles to go before I sleep! The ideas were also made more concrete by the writings of Kafka. I read his book - The Trial. The most symbolic book I have ever read! Thanks to Fromm. Fromm also deepened my ideas about Buddhism. I had a stint re-visiting the Christian mysticism, Sufi mysticism, etc, too. Along with that Karen Armstrong, and Fritjof Capra led me to the world of religion and physics and being again present to their interconnection. Armstrong is one of my person inspiration!
The most refreshing thing that happened to me between 17th July 2012 and 17th July 2013 was Fromm and Marx. I feel, they really helped me to know myself and the world better. I am still continuing Marx and Fromm. But recently since couple of months, I am deep into David Deida. With what a courage, audacity and truth this person speaks! Interesting perspective! Now continuing with his third book. A good place I am standing, trying to synthesize Marx, Freud, Fromm, Tolstoy and Deida! All experimenting on Love, God and Truth. Things going good!
Yes, I started growing beard and hair this year. (Family not happy) Do not know why, I am doing this. It is a fallout of a concoction many thoughts, feelings and whims. I myself am not very sure about it. I can always rationalize it saying something or the other. But, I choose not to do so, and just be in the place, without searching for any explanation and logic. I just want to be free.
Yes, this is the third year of my being a vegetarian. I am finding more and more that vegetarianism is something most natural to me. There is no feeling of righteousness in this. Neither there is any baggage of any ideology. It is just natural for me, and I would like to keep it that way. Again it is about freedom, and being authentic.
One thing makes me feel uncomfortable every birthday - being busy with all myself and me, from morning to night. Hundreds of wishes, phone calls, messages, etc. It certainly feels good that so many people love me! I feel pampered. But it tires me after sometime. It feels like being suffocated by only me, myself and I. The profound desire to break out from the dark bondage of myself, and reach out to others strongly raises its head. It is then, I try to contemplate on those beautiful words, expressions and efforts my friends and family has taken to wish me that day! It feels so good to be able to reach out to their heart, in that space of meditation, where they thought about me, and cared to either call, or send a note of wish. It feels like a communion with God - through fellow humans. It is by itself a profound state to be in! It feels so much more powerful being able to know the other, and relate to the other - their pain, inhibitions, dreams, fears and inspirations!
The primary state of being that I am in communion with through this birthday, is the spirit of being in the state of unbound openness of Love. It is about ravishing the world and myself, in profound openness. From that canvas of openness, I am trying to create every moment, relationship, and institutions, being the possibility of boundless Love. Being in that state, it is all about how I give the gift of the truth - who I am, to one and all. It is about penetrating the world with my gift of openness and Love, in the spirit of service. It is about feeling through my desires and expressing them with my gift to the world - through my words, poems, actions, and work.
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on July 17, 2013 10:23
May 25, 2013
The Bliss of Death

The music from the violin,
Arises from the hidden world of the heart,
Mingles slowly but gradually,
Into the vastness of Her open embrace.
When the music shows up in all its youth,
It enthralls and amazed all!
In all its pride and voluptuous presence,
It basks in all the highest glory!
Gradually but to eventually vanish,
Entering into Her,
With certainty and un-diluted love!
The Sun rises in all its magnificence,
Only to more and more realize
Its love for her, with every passing moment,
Being eaten by Her,
In all arduous and unstoppable Love,
To the ultimate silent night.
Having being hugged to nothingness,
The Sun in hope of more,
Again rises the other day,
Just to experience being exterminated
All over again, Eaten wholly in Her Love.
The song from the depths unfathomable,
From the throbbing soul of the poet,
Emanates out in all ardor,
Determined to escape to the fresh air of life,
From the suffocating entrapment
Of the chores and rules.
With grown feathers it does explores
The horizon wide.
Flaunts its radiant color,
And novel expressions.
Only to realize eventually its only Love,
The Love for Her,
Vanishing in her bossom,
Like nothing existed a moment ago!
In the landscape that is known as reality,
The games, dances and the celebrations,
All the chimes of the bells,
And the hues of vermillion, crimson, and indigo,
All the strokes, shouts, moans, and laughters
Appears such that
Hidden within all what is manifest,
Is a hidden truth!
The truth of that un-dying Love,
The eternal attraction to Nothingness,
Entering into Her,
Forgetting all that ridges, highs and lows,
Being erased for all and ever.
Walking by the silent Nile,
In the canopy of the twinning eyes,
Of the ageless twinkling sages,
Watching as stars from the infinitude of the open space,
Simoni moves on in ultimate surrender,
In his Love for Her,
Watching himself to be wasted,
With wrinkles, and all frailties of age.
Just to discover in all newness,
That rejuvenated primordial attraction,
From eons past and eons to come,
To be taken forever by Her
In that bestial grasping, clasping,
That tightest hug of the Beloved,
And Her cuddle of the all encompassing Mother,
Warm, violent, ecstatic, relieving and certain!
Into the eternal bliss of Death!
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on May 25, 2013 21:10
May 24, 2013
She

An evocation of the Primordial Song,From the deepest recesses of the Soul!
A huge splash of buckets of Vermillion,
On the huge dusky canvas!
An all embracing inclusiveness,
Like the magnanimous Mother Earth!
A bestial throbbing urge,
Eager to engulf within all that is!
A damsel in trance,
Swooning in overflowing emotion!
A process of expanding the self,
Increasing in the breadth, spreading all around.
Disappearance in that vast openness,
Nothing to hide in tensed closeness!
The act of the turmeric dissolving earnestly,
In the all accepting being of the milk!
The fragrance of the Jasmine,
Enthralling the being of the whole garden!
The birth opening up as the virgin dawn,
Death ensuing to a new horizon as the wise dusk!
The wheel of Life goes on,
She is watching it in her full grandeur!
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on May 24, 2013 23:32
May 11, 2013
Saluting Motherhood
A portal for an angel to taste
What it means being a God.
Being in the pedestrian of the Highest Glory.
Of being the Creator,
Of a new Life, a new Hope, a new Dream!
It is being the Mother.
A re-creation of the self,
In the primal being of Creativity,
Giving birth to a New Dawn,
With Potential anew,
Nurturing the seed,
With all the Possibilities in potential,
Grooming it to the fully grown Tree,
Beautifying the landscape and Sustaining the same!
The stroke of being a Mother.
A stance of grace,
All alone through the solitary journey,
Nurturing a life within Her womb,
Containing all in her,
The fear, hope, pain, dreams and Love,
Of Hers, and the one to come!
Bringing forth her creation,
Through the lonely torture of that unbearable pain!
Is that Elegance of Being a Mom!
Being able to contain all in Love,
Nurturing with that all encompassing Hope,
All forms of Life, All forms of Possibilities,
A living Channel,
Bringing down the Highest Invisible Archetype,
From the horizons unknown,
To the tangible reality of day and night!
A Being exemplified by Mothers all over the world,
All colored in just one garb of Grace,
The Grace of Motherhood,
Bringing forth to the world,
What it means to be a Creator.
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
What it means being a God.
Being in the pedestrian of the Highest Glory.
Of being the Creator,
Of a new Life, a new Hope, a new Dream!
It is being the Mother.
A re-creation of the self,
In the primal being of Creativity,
Giving birth to a New Dawn,
With Potential anew,
Nurturing the seed,
With all the Possibilities in potential,
Grooming it to the fully grown Tree,
Beautifying the landscape and Sustaining the same!
The stroke of being a Mother.
A stance of grace,
All alone through the solitary journey,
Nurturing a life within Her womb,
Containing all in her,
The fear, hope, pain, dreams and Love,
Of Hers, and the one to come!
Bringing forth her creation,
Through the lonely torture of that unbearable pain!
Is that Elegance of Being a Mom!
Being able to contain all in Love,
Nurturing with that all encompassing Hope,
All forms of Life, All forms of Possibilities,
A living Channel,
Bringing down the Highest Invisible Archetype,
From the horizons unknown,
To the tangible reality of day and night!
A Being exemplified by Mothers all over the world,
All colored in just one garb of Grace,
The Grace of Motherhood,
Bringing forth to the world,
What it means to be a Creator.
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on May 11, 2013 22:19
May 3, 2013
The Solitary Vagabond
There lies the vast expanse,
The green meadow,
The strip of crimson flowers,
The dots of flowers and fruits,
In colors yellow, green, blue, and red.
The trees, the stream, the mountains and the sky!
All varied and unique and so special!
The vastness of the sky,
The grandeur of the mountain,
The still and strong tree,
The shy bushes,
The frigid touch me nots!
The Solitary Vagabond roams
From meadows to stream,
From trees to falls,
From oceans to deserts.
In his journey, he stops often.
Either to the pink tulip, or the green cactus.
Sometimes to the clean flowing stream,
Or to the passionate roaring ocean.
All elements in nature,
Established in their own beauty,
Flourish, Blossom and Thrive!
The Solitary Vagabond, stops by,
Listens to their song,
Hums it a while, loves the music,
And kisses them, as he goes by!
He is in love,
With the flamboyant Albatross,
And the coy turtle,
For he knows all have a heart of Gold!
He tries to touch them,
From the core of his truthful heart,
With the touch of his throbbing Love.
The cactus bleeds his fingers,
The touch-me-not closes her away,
Vanishing in the closeness of darkness,
The Albatross takes his new flight
Charting a horizon new,
Leaving him abandoned.
All continue to follow their journey,
Some love the Solitary Vagabond,
Some hate him from core.
For all are different, unique and so special.
They have their own language, their own fears,
Their own songs and their own strokes.
All see the Vagabond colored in their own colors!
The Vagabond continues to be solitary,
Always being in Love,
He continues to stop by,
And touch all with the touch of his soul,
From the depth of his pure heart.
With every touch, and every hurt,
With every stone toppling him,
With every new pain, and scar deepened,
He has a new impression,
The impression of Life and Love.
For the Solitary Vagabond,
All the scars, sweat, pain and tiredness,
Is the gift of Life,
For he is able to see the invisible,
The archetype hidden in beneath
The surface of all the diverse chaos.
Bliss sails him through in ecstasy,
Pain churns his soul,
And brings forth the pearl of wisdom!
All play their own role,
Nourishing the Vagabond in his journey!
For, he knows for sure,
The truth is just One - Love and Only Love.
It is just he has to know it better,
With every scar, with every blow.
Sun is about to set,
Vagabond is tired,
Every joint of his body is pain.
Stops he not.
Continues he the journey eternal.
Sun sets, and Moon rises.
Stars come up twinkling in amazement.
The Vagabond continues his journey,
Going beyond all that is non-essential,
Beyond all barriers
Of hatred, meanness, closeness, and delusion,
To touch all, in his purity of Love.
He has no one with him -
No person, no thing.
He is solitary and alone.
But more than what he has,
He is happy with what he is,
For he has been able to Love,
In equal fervor -
The Cactus and the Tulip.
At the sunset of his life,
He knows nothing will be take with him.
When Death hides him
In the dark shroud of the unknown,
He would know that he is happier,
For he has been able to touch the Heart of All,
Knowing the bliss,
Not by what they felt or gave back,
But by what he was able to give, and discover!
His God is the invisible core,
Of all that is alive,
Beneath the bustle and chaos,
Of all judgement, illusions, transience,
That Truth which thrives
In the Space of the perpetual Sanctuary,
The Sanctuary of Love.
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
The green meadow,
The strip of crimson flowers,
The dots of flowers and fruits,
In colors yellow, green, blue, and red.
The trees, the stream, the mountains and the sky!
All varied and unique and so special!
The vastness of the sky,
The grandeur of the mountain,
The still and strong tree,
The shy bushes,
The frigid touch me nots!
The Solitary Vagabond roams
From meadows to stream,
From trees to falls,
From oceans to deserts.
In his journey, he stops often.
Either to the pink tulip, or the green cactus.
Sometimes to the clean flowing stream,
Or to the passionate roaring ocean.
All elements in nature,
Established in their own beauty,
Flourish, Blossom and Thrive!
The Solitary Vagabond, stops by,
Listens to their song,
Hums it a while, loves the music,
And kisses them, as he goes by!
He is in love,
With the flamboyant Albatross,
And the coy turtle,
For he knows all have a heart of Gold!
He tries to touch them,
From the core of his truthful heart,
With the touch of his throbbing Love.
The cactus bleeds his fingers,
The touch-me-not closes her away,
Vanishing in the closeness of darkness,
The Albatross takes his new flight
Charting a horizon new,
Leaving him abandoned.
All continue to follow their journey,
Some love the Solitary Vagabond,
Some hate him from core.
For all are different, unique and so special.
They have their own language, their own fears,
Their own songs and their own strokes.
All see the Vagabond colored in their own colors!
The Vagabond continues to be solitary,
Always being in Love,
He continues to stop by,
And touch all with the touch of his soul,
From the depth of his pure heart.
With every touch, and every hurt,
With every stone toppling him,
With every new pain, and scar deepened,
He has a new impression,
The impression of Life and Love.
For the Solitary Vagabond,
All the scars, sweat, pain and tiredness,
Is the gift of Life,
For he is able to see the invisible,
The archetype hidden in beneath
The surface of all the diverse chaos.
Bliss sails him through in ecstasy,
Pain churns his soul,
And brings forth the pearl of wisdom!
All play their own role,
Nourishing the Vagabond in his journey!
For, he knows for sure,
The truth is just One - Love and Only Love.
It is just he has to know it better,
With every scar, with every blow.
Sun is about to set,
Vagabond is tired,
Every joint of his body is pain.
Stops he not.
Continues he the journey eternal.
Sun sets, and Moon rises.
Stars come up twinkling in amazement.
The Vagabond continues his journey,
Going beyond all that is non-essential,
Beyond all barriers
Of hatred, meanness, closeness, and delusion,
To touch all, in his purity of Love.
He has no one with him -
No person, no thing.
He is solitary and alone.
But more than what he has,
He is happy with what he is,
For he has been able to Love,
In equal fervor -
The Cactus and the Tulip.
At the sunset of his life,
He knows nothing will be take with him.
When Death hides him
In the dark shroud of the unknown,
He would know that he is happier,
For he has been able to touch the Heart of All,
Knowing the bliss,
Not by what they felt or gave back,
But by what he was able to give, and discover!
His God is the invisible core,
Of all that is alive,
Beneath the bustle and chaos,
Of all judgement, illusions, transience,
That Truth which thrives
In the Space of the perpetual Sanctuary,
The Sanctuary of Love.
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on May 03, 2013 21:47
April 30, 2013
Simoni's Closet
Ever changing is Time, as the Things.
So do people, feelings and seasons change.
Good that memories don’t.
Opening the huge closet, Simoni was about to
Start the Journey to the bygone lanes of his memory.
The closet of red velvet, lined with glistening gold,
Opened into precious memories
Of years gone by!
There were rings, bells, books, notes, book-marks,
Plaques, and trophies.
All impeccably placed, clean and shining.
In one corner was a rolled red muslin.
Seeing it Simoni remembered it!
Unrolled he the muslin with peace,
Was there a strand of hair,
And note of thanks! - Still Fragrant in that youthful Love.
Started he reading through the lines,
Between the words, and letters.
For started surging the invisible waves
From forgone years of abandonment.
The waves of feelings, emotions,
Vulnerability, fear, pride, honor, and Love.
The note, the letters and that
Most Beautiful handwriting!
All appeared like the Harp of Venus,
What was more essential for Simoni,
Was the hidden Symphony.
The Symphony of that pristine Love.
The color and texture of the paper has aged,
Simoni’s eyes have gone weaker,
His fingers has wrinkles many,
The Love from Her, is now lost
In the commotion of years gone by.
But then, what was still young, fresh and unchanged -
Are the memories, the throbbing of the heart,
And that surrender in the space of Love,
Simoni was going through.
It was all the same then,
It is still the same now!
It was about a century ago,
When the Love was born,
Out of an innocent liking.
In that space in time and dimensions,
Before She loved him, a century ago,
And after she changed, and never loved him again,
In that space behind and in-front,
Simoni was sailing on his suchness of Love,
With shimmering phantasm of
Emotions, lust, longing, sensations,
Rising and dying on the eternal ocean of
The Suchness, and Permanence
Of the Sanctuary of Simoni’s Love,
Always present in Peace.
His possessions in his secret closet,
That strand of hair, the note, the book mark,
The ring, the bells,
All appeared to him keys to the mystery,
The Mystery of Life and Love,
The Eternal, un-changing, constant and un-altered,
Axis of his every youthful Love,
For Her.
For more poems on Michel Simoni and his love - http://criativ-mind.blogspot.in/search/label/SIMONI%20SERIEShttp://www.amazon.com/Simonis-Story-sculptor-his-love/dp/1481128590/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367386585&sr=8-1&keywords=samrat+kar
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
So do people, feelings and seasons change.
Good that memories don’t.
Opening the huge closet, Simoni was about to
Start the Journey to the bygone lanes of his memory.
The closet of red velvet, lined with glistening gold,
Opened into precious memories
Of years gone by!
There were rings, bells, books, notes, book-marks,
Plaques, and trophies.
All impeccably placed, clean and shining.
In one corner was a rolled red muslin.
Seeing it Simoni remembered it!
Unrolled he the muslin with peace,
Was there a strand of hair,
And note of thanks! - Still Fragrant in that youthful Love.
Started he reading through the lines,
Between the words, and letters.
For started surging the invisible waves
From forgone years of abandonment.
The waves of feelings, emotions,
Vulnerability, fear, pride, honor, and Love.
The note, the letters and that
Most Beautiful handwriting!
All appeared like the Harp of Venus,
What was more essential for Simoni,
Was the hidden Symphony.
The Symphony of that pristine Love.
The color and texture of the paper has aged,
Simoni’s eyes have gone weaker,
His fingers has wrinkles many,
The Love from Her, is now lost
In the commotion of years gone by.
But then, what was still young, fresh and unchanged -
Are the memories, the throbbing of the heart,
And that surrender in the space of Love,
Simoni was going through.
It was all the same then,
It is still the same now!
It was about a century ago,
When the Love was born,
Out of an innocent liking.
In that space in time and dimensions,
Before She loved him, a century ago,
And after she changed, and never loved him again,
In that space behind and in-front,
Simoni was sailing on his suchness of Love,
With shimmering phantasm of
Emotions, lust, longing, sensations,
Rising and dying on the eternal ocean of
The Suchness, and Permanence
Of the Sanctuary of Simoni’s Love,
Always present in Peace.
His possessions in his secret closet,
That strand of hair, the note, the book mark,
The ring, the bells,
All appeared to him keys to the mystery,
The Mystery of Life and Love,
The Eternal, un-changing, constant and un-altered,
Axis of his every youthful Love,
For Her.
For more poems on Michel Simoni and his love - http://criativ-mind.blogspot.in/search/label/SIMONI%20SERIEShttp://www.amazon.com/Simonis-Story-sculptor-his-love/dp/1481128590/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367386585&sr=8-1&keywords=samrat+kar
______________________________________________
Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
Published on April 30, 2013 22:37